Catnip Part 3
by lucindamellark
Summary: What would happen if the Hunger Games characters read the Hunger Games trilogy?


_I did not steal my idea from anyone. Or anything. I really liked the idea, and I hope you all like the story! I do not own anything._

Falling out of a tree just because.

_One time, when I was in a blind in a tree,_

"Wait, repeat that?" asks Haymitch.

"You were blind…..in a tree. And you were in the tree? Are you _physco_?" asks Finnick.

_Waiting motionless for game to wander by, I dozed off and fell ten feet to the ground, landing on my back._

"Serves you right" mutters Finnick, "it takes you to fall out of a tree to finally see the light of things. You simply can't doze off…in a tree."

"Do you ALWAYS have to add something?" says Peeta.

"Yes. Yes, I do. Because the world wouldn't be the same if they didn't hear my voice at least once a day" says Finnick.

_It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from my lungs, and I lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. That's how I feel now, trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally stunned as the name bounces around the inside of my skull._

"Thanks for ruining the effect. Words don't bounce around in your head. Or skull. Whatever terminology you used, I have to say that I couldn't possibly care less." Says Finnick.

"There he goes again. You know, I think in terms of pathetic-ness, you would be a way better narrator that Suzie Colins." Says Katniss.

"Do you know how to read?" asks Finnick.

"If not, would I have been able to read the first chapter? I think that the Capitol makes you seem 10 times smarter than you actually are." Says Katniss.

"No, the Capitol demeans me in ways that you would never understand." Says Finnick simply.

_Someone is gripping my arm, a boy from the Seam, and I think maybe I started to fall and he caught me._

"Does it manage to specify who the boy from the Seam is?" asks Peeta.

"No. Just someone to help me from falling. Why, is there a problem?" asks Katniss.

"No…no. Of course not. Why would there be a problem? Just some random person catches you when you fall and you don't remember his name. Real sweet. I would love that. Fall, will you, so that I can catch you. By the way, what's my name?" asks Peeta.

"I think you know" is all she says.

_There must have been some mistake. This can't be happening. Prim was one slip of paper in thousands!_

"Brilliant, brilliant yet INCREDIBLY stupid Katniss. Have you ever heard of something call odds? There not normally in people's favour. And since you are some inhumane, selfish person, their definitely NOT in your favour! Simple, I hope." Says Finnick.

They have to hold her back. After she kicks him. He screams in pain and falls, face first, into a new and more disgusting pile of garbage. He starts cursing her while buried in the pile.

_Her chances of being chosen were so remote that I'd not even bothered to worry about her._

Finnick gets up, spits out a molded piece of bread, and glares with hatred at Katniss.

"Selfish Katniss. Not even bothering to worry about her sister. Prim, how are you still sane?" asks Finnick.

_Hadn't I done everything? Taken the tesserae, refused to let her do the same? One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favour. But it hadn't mattered. Somewhere far away, I can hear the crowd murmuring unhappily, as they always do when a twelve-year-old gets chosen, because no one thinks this is fair. And then I see her, the blood drained from her face, hands clenched in fists at her sides, walking with stiff, small steps up towards the stage, passing me, and I see the back of her blouse has become untucked and hangs out over her skirt. It's this detail, the untucked blouse forming a duck's tail, that brings me back to myself. "Prim!" The strangled cry comes out of my throat, and my muscles begin to move again._

"What muscles?" cries Finnick.

"SHUT UP!" everyone yells.

"It takes an untucked shirt to bring you back to reality? Are you that lost?" complains Finnick.

Everyone hits him at the same time, causing him to yelp like a girl in pain, and gets pushed off the couch entirely into a garbage pile.

"_Prim!" I don't need to shove through the crowd. The other kids make way immediately, allowing me a straight path to the stage. I reach her just as she is about to mount the steps. With one sweep of my arm, I push her behind me._

"And she falls off the stage, into her death. You know, you and your incredibly stupid self just saved Prim from dying an even more painful death in the Hunger Games. And ruining her possible chance of survival. Cruelty. You know what, your such a wonderful person, I should give you a nice, WONDERFUL slap in the face." Says Finnick.

As response to this, Peeta whacks him in the head with the next book in the series, Catching Fire, and he falls behind the couch.

"_I volunteer!" I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!"_

"You do WHAT!" yells Peeta.

"You idiot!" yells Gale.

"I'm a what?" yells Katniss.

"A volunteer, huh? My future amazing self must be exploding inside" says Haymitch.

"She volunteered? Yup, she's physco." Says Thresh.

"Why did she do it? Why?" pleads Rue.

"Your nuts!" yells Chaff.

The only one who hasn't replied is Finnick.

"You see! I told you all how much of an idiot she is. Oh, how I love being right." Says Finnick.

"Shut UP you buttface" yells Katniss.

"I'm a WHAT? You're the complete and utter IDIOT! I *gasp, gasp* volunteer *gasp, gasp* as *gasp, gasp* tribute *gasp, gasp* where's the cliff?" says Finnick.

"!" says Katniss angrily.

"WHAT? I can't hear you over that NONSENSE."

Finnick just got thrown out of a window.

"YOU IDIOT! NOW I'M COVERED IN DIRT! I WILL SUE!"

"FOR WHAT?"

"FOR EXISTING!"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST DIE!"

_There's some confusion on the stage._

"NO, REALLY?" Finnick yells from outside.

"Will you SHUT UP?" yells Katniss.

"NO!" he yells back.

_District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in decades and the protocol has become rusty. The rule is that once a tribute's name has been pulled from the ball, another eligible boy, if a boy's name has been read, or girl, if a girl's name has been read, can step forward to take his or her place. In some districts, in which winning the reaping is such a great honour, people are eager to risk their lives, and the volunteering is complicated. But in District 12, where the word tribute is pretty much synonymous with the word corpse, volunteers are all but extinct.  
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"AND YOU WENT TO GO AND RUIN IT! WHY DO YOU EXIST?" yells Finnick, "CAN SOMEONE LET ME BACK IN?"

"NO" we all yell back.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? NEVER MIND. IT SMELLS WAY BETTER OUT HERE. AND YOU CAN'T DIE FROM SOME UNKNOWN DISEASE OUT HERE. WELL, MAYBE YOU CAN. IT IS THE HOARDER'S PROPERTY-"

"I'M A WHAT!" yells Haymitch.

"I'M SORRY, DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME? A HOARDER!" yells Finnick.

"_Lovely!" says Effie Trinket. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um. . ." She trails off, unsure herself. "What does it matter?"_

"YA, GALENIP? WHAT DOES IT MATTER? THE LOVE YOUR LIFE IS GOING TO HER DEATH, BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER. NO, OF COURSE NOT. HOW COULD I BE SO-" says Finnick.

"SHUT UP!" Gale yells back.

_says the mayor. He's looking at me with a pained expression on his face._

"I KNOW, SHE'S TOO UGLY TO LOOK AT. AT LEAST WERE ON THE SAME PAGE!" yells Finnick.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" yells Peeta.

_He doesn't know me really, but there's a faint recognition there. I am the girl who brings the strawberries. The girl his daughter might have spoken of on occasion. The girl who five years ago stood huddled with her mother and sister, as he presented her, the oldest child, with a medal of valour. A medal for her father, vaporized in the mines. Does he remember that? "What does it matter?" he repeats gruffly._

"GRUFFLY? AM I HEARING RIGHT? OR DID THE MULTIPLE FALLS AND THROWS OUT THE WINDOW DAMAGE MY HEARING? YET ANOTHER REASON TO SUE!" yells Finnick.

"_Let her come forward." Prim is screaming hysterically behind me._

"SAYING YES THANK YOU SHE'S FINALLY OUT OF MY LIFE! I'M FREE. I'D DO THE SAME THING" Finnick yells.

"NO ONE CARES!" Katniss yells back.

_She's wrapped her skinny arms around me like a vice. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" "Prim, let go," I say harshly, because this is upsetting me and I don't want to cry. When they televise the replay of the reapings tonight, everyone will make note of my tears, and I'll be marked as an easy target. A weakling._

"THEY WILL ANYWAY! CAUSE YOU ARE ONE! THERE'S NO DENYING THE TRUTH!" yells Finnick.

"I AM? YOU'RE THE ONE WHO LET THEMSELVES GET PUSHED OUT A WINDOW!" yells Katniss.

"I DIDN'T LET MYSELF. I WAS FORCED!" yells Finnick.

_I will give no one that satisfaction. "Let go!" I can feel someone pulling her from my back. I turn and see Gale has lifted Prim off the ground and she's thrashing in his arms. "Up you go, Catnip," he says, in a voice he's fighting to keep steady,_

"FROM EXCITEMENT! YOU GO, GALENIP" yells Finnick, running in circles outside.

"ONE MORE AND I'M CALLING THE PEACEKEEPERS!" yells Gale.

"SO WHAT? THEY CAN'T HARM ME. I'M NOT FROM THEIR DISTRICT! HA! JOKES ON YOU, IDIOT!" yells Finnick.

_and then he carries Prim off towards my mother. I steel myself and climb the steps. "Well, bravo!" gushes Effie Trinket. "That's the spirit of the Games!" She's pleased to finally have a district with a little action going on in it. "What's your name?" I swallow hard. "Katniss Everdeen," I say. "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?_

"ANOTHER IDIOT? WHAT KIND OF POOR EXCUSE FOR A STORY IS THIS?" yells Finnick.

"REALLY? CAUSE T DOESN'T HAVE YOU IN IT," yells Katniss.

"EXACTLY. THAT'S WHY ITS SUCH A POOR EXCUSE." Yells Finnick.

_Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" trills Effie Trinket. To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly because they know me from the Hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, whom no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence._

"THEIR PROBABLY HOLDING BACK LAUGHS" says Finnick.

"NO, BECAUSE NOT EVERYONE ISN'T AS PATHETIC AS YOU ARE!" Katniss yells.

"PATHETIC? ME? YOU!" Finnick yells.

_Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong._

"I KN0W!" Finnick yells.

"WHAT? REALLY?" Katniss yells.

"THE FACT THAT YOU WERE BORN IS WRONG!"

_Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me._

"CAUSE NOTHING AND NO ONE DOES!" yells Finnick.

"YOU'D REALLY LIKE TO DIE, WOULDN'T YOU?" yells Peeta.

"TRUTHFULLY, NOT REALLY!" Finnick yells back.

_But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means goodbye to someone you love._

"ARE YOU SURE ITS TO YOU AND NOT THE HORSE IN THE BACKGROUND?" yells Finnick.

"WHAT HORSE?" Katniss yells.

"EFF SHRINK" yells Finnick.

"SHE'S NOT A HORSE!' Katniss yells back.

_Now I am truly in danger of crying, but fortunately Haymitch chooses this time to come staggering across the stage to congratulate me. "Look at her. Look at this one!" he hollers, throwing an arm around my shoulders. He's surprisingly strong for such a wreck. "I like her!" His breath reeks of liquor and it's been a long time since he's bathed. "Lots of. . ." He can't think of the word for a while. "Spunk!"_

"SPUNK? SHE HAS SPUNK? SHE COULDN'T HAVE SPUNK IF HER LIFE DEPENDED ON IT! A TRASH CAN HAS MORE SPUNK THAN HER!" yells Finnick.

"YA? WELL THIS GARBAGE PILE IS HANDSOMER THAN YOU ARE!" yells Katniss.

"REALLY? CAUSE THAT GARBAGE PILE IS YOU!" yells Finnick.

_he says triumphantly. "More than you!" He releases me and starts for the front of the stage. "More than you!" he shouts, pointing directly into a camera. Is he addressing the audience or is he so drunk he might actually be taunting the Capitol? I'll never know_

"COURSE YOU WON'T! TOO MUCH TO PROCESS FOR KATNISS!" yells Finnick.

_because just as he's opening his mouth to continue, Haymitch plummets off the stage and knocks himself unconscious. He's disgusting, but I'm grateful. With every camera gleefully trained on him, I have just enough time to release the small, choked sound in my throat and compose myself. I put my hands behind my back and stare into the distance. I can see the hills I climbed this morning with Gale. For a moment, I yearn for something . . . the idea of us leaving the district . . . making our way in the woods . . ._

"OOO, PEETANIP JUST GOT NEGLECTED. OHHHH, DAMN!" yells Finnick.

Peeta is beet red. "WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP!" he yells.

"THAT IS JUST OUT OF PAIN! YOU NEED ME TO COMFORT YOU!" Finnick yells.

_but I know I was right about not running off. Because who else would have volunteered for Prim? Haymitch is whisked away on a stretcher, and Effie Trinket is trying to get the ball rolling again. "What an exciting day!" she warbles as she attempts to straighten her wig, which has listed severely to the right. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Clearly hoping to contain her tenuous hair situation, she plants one hand on her head as she crosses to the ball that contains the boys' names and grabs the first slip she encounters. She zips back to the podium, and I don't even have time to wish for Gale's safety when she's reading the name. "Peeta Mellark." Peeta Mellark!_

"NO!" yells Peeta.

"OH, SHIT! WHAT HAPPENED? NOT PEETANIP! KILL KATNISS, BUT NOT HIM! I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO KNOW HIS ANNOYING SELF! HE WAS SO YOUNG!" Finnick cries.

"WHAT?" yells Gale, "So, you both are in The Hunger Games. Swell. Really. I'm so happy." Gale says.

"I CAN TELL," yells Finnick, "JEALOUS, MUCH?"

"NEVER!" yells Gale.

_Oh, no, I think. Not him. Because I recognize this name, although I have never spoken directly to its owner. Peeta Mellark._

"OH NO, PEETANIP! WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT?" yells Finnick.

_No, the odds are not in my favour today. I watch him as he makes his way towards the stage. Medium height, stocky build, ashy blond hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the moment is registering on his face, you can see his struggle to remain emotionless, but his blue eyes show the alarm I've seen so often in prey. Yet he climbs steadily on to the stage and takes his place._

"OH, THE SEXY WAY SHE DESCRIBES HIM! CATNIP AND PEETANIP SITTING IN A TREE IN THE HUNGER GAMES. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. FIRST COMES MAKING GALENIP PUKE, THEN COMES WATCHING HAYMITCH PUKE-" sings Finnick.

"SHUT UP" they all yell.

"JUST THE SHOCK OF THE MOMENT." Finnick yells.

_Effie Trinket asks for volunteers, but no one steps forward. He has two older brothers, I know, I've seen them in the bakery, but one is probably too old now to volunteer and the other won't. This is standard. Family devotion only goes so far for most people on reaping day. What I did was the radical thing. The mayor begins to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason as he does every year at this point – it's required – but I'm not listening to a word. Why him? I think._

"WHY HIM? WHY YOU!" yells Finnick.

"You've been to the bakery before?" asks Peeta curiously, clearly hiding all of his emotions.

"Ya, who hasn't?" says Katniss.

"OOO, THE SPARKS ARE FLYING." Yells Finnick.

"WHAT SPARKS?" yells Gale.

_Then I try to convince myself it doesn't matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbours. We don't speak. Our only real interaction happened years ago. He's probably forgotten it. But I haven't and I know I never will. . ._

"OH, WHAT DID YOU YOUNG CHICKENS DO?" yells Finnick.

"Ya, pshh, we're not friends. What a ridiculous thought?" Peeta says.

"OH, YOU HURT HIM! APOLOGIZE CATNIP!" yells Finnick.

_It was during the worst time. My father had been killed in the mine accident three months earlier in the bitterest January anyone could remember. The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. Where are you? I would cry out in my mind. Where have you gone?_

"I DON'T KNOW, TO THE LAND OF THE DEAD?" yells Finnick.

"CAN YOU SHUT UP?" yells Katniss.

"NOT AT THIS SUSPENSEFUL MOMENT!" yells Finnick.

_Of course, there was never any answer. The district had given us a small amount of money as compensation for his death, enough to cover one month of grieving, after which time my mother would be expected to get a job. Only she didn't. She didn't do anything but sit propped up in a chair or, more often, huddled under the blankets on her bed, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Once in a while, she'd stir, get up as if moved by some urgent purpose, only to then collapse back into stillness. No amount of pleading from Prim seemed to affect her. I was terrified. I suppose now that my mother was locked in some dark world of sadness, but at the time, all I knew was that I had lost not only a father, but a mother as well. At eleven years old, with Prim just seven, I took over as head of the family. There was no choice. I bought our food at the market and cooked it as best I could and tried to keep Prim and myself looking presentable. Because if it had become known that my mother could no longer care for us, the district would have taken us away from her and placed us in the community home. I'd grown up seeing those home kids at school. The sadness, the marks of angry hands on their faces, the hopelessness that curled their shoulders forward. I could never let that happen to Prim. Sweet, tiny Prim who cried when I cried before she even knew the reason, who brushed and plaited my mother's hair before we left for school, who still polished my father's shaving mirror each night because he'd hated the layer of coal dust that settled on everything in the Seam. The community home would crush her like a bug. So I kept our predicament a secret._

"FINALLY, SHE SOES SOMETHING SOMEWHAT SMART!" yells Finnick.

"WHY THANK YOU." Yells Katniss.

_But the money ran out and we were slowly starving to death. There's no other way to put it. I kept telling myself if I could only hold out until May, just the eighth of May, I would turn twelve and be able to sign up for the tesserae and get that precious grain and oil to feed us. Only there were still several weeks to go. We could well be dead by then. Starvation's not an uncommon fate in District 12. Who hasn't seen the victims? Older people who can't work. Children from a family with too many to feed. Those injured in the mines. Straggling through the streets. And one day, you come upon them sitting motionless against a wall or lying in the Meadow, you hear the wails from a house, and the Peacekeepers are called in to retrieve the body. Starvation is never the cause of death officially. It's always the flu, or exposure, or pneumonia. But that fools no one. On the afternoon of my encounter with Peeta Mellark, the rain was falling in relentless icy sheets. I had been in town, trying to trade some threadbare old baby clothes of Prim's in the public market, but there were no takers. Although I had been to the Hob on several occasions with my father, I was too frightened to venture into that rough, gritty place alone. The rain had soaked through my father's hunting jacket, leaving me chilled to the bone. For three days, we'd had nothing but boiled water with some old dried mint leaves I'd found in the back of a cupboard. By the time the market closed, I was shaking so hard I dropped my bundle of baby clothes in a muddy puddle. I didn't pick it up for fear I would keel over and be unable to regain my feet. Besides, no one wanted those clothes. I couldn't go home. Because at home was my mother with her dead eyes and my little sister, with her hollow cheeks and cracked lips. I couldn't walk into that room with the smoky fire from the damp branches I had scavenged at the edge of the woods after the coal had run out, my hands empty of any hope. I found myself stumbling along a muddy lane behind the shops that serve the wealthiest townspeople. The merchants live above their businesses, so I was essentially in their back gardens. I remember the outlines of garden beds not yet planted for the spring, a goat or two in a pen, one sodden dog tied to a post, hunched defeated in the muck. All forms of stealing are forbidden in District 12. Punishable by death. But it crossed my mind that there might be something in the rubbish bins, and those were fair game. Perhaps a bone at the butcher's or rotted vegetables at the grocer's, something no one but my family was desperate enough to eat. Unfortunately, the bins had just been emptied. When I passed the baker's,_

"I HAVE A FEELING THIS IS WHERE OUR DEAR MR. MELLARK COMES IN" yells Finnick.

"SURE IS." Yells Peeta.

_the smell of fresh bread was so overwhelming I felt dizzy. The ovens were in the back, and a golden glow spilled out of the open kitchen door. I stood mesmerized by the heat and the luscious scent until the rain interfered, running its icy fingers down my back, forcing me back to life. I lifted the lid to the baker's rubbish bin and found it spotlessly, heartlessly bare. Suddenly a voice was screaming at me and I looked up to see the baker's wife, telling me to move on and did I want her to call the Peacekeepers and how sick she was of having those brats from the Seam pawing through her rubbish. The words were ugly and I had no defence. As I carefully replaced the lid and backed away, I noticed him, a boy with blond hair peering out from behind his mother's back._

"I'M STARTING TO LIKE THIS BAKER'S WIFE/MOTHER CHARACTER. IF THEY WERE TO MAKE A VIDEO OUT OF HER, I'D SO WANNA PLAY HER" yells Finnick.

"YA, YOU'D MAKE A GOOD MIDDLEAGED WOMAN" yells Peeta.

"THANKS-HEY, WAIT!" yells Finnick, "THIS IS WHERE PEETANIP COMES IN, ISN'T IT?"

"YUP!" Katniss yells.

_I'd seen him at school. He was in my year, but I didn't know his name. He stuck with the town kids, so how would I? His mother went back into the bakery, grumbling, but he must have been watching me as I made my way behind the pen that held their pig and leaned against the far side of an old apple tree. The realization that I'd have nothing to take home had finally sunk in. My knees buckled and I slid down the tree trunk to its roots. It was too much. I was too sick and weak and tired, oh, so tired. Let them call the Peacekeepers and take us to the community home, I thought. Or better yet, let me die right here in the rain._

"WELL, THAT'S A POSITIVE WAY TO THINK." Yells Finnick, "BUT THEN AGAIN, WHEN HAVE WE KNOWN CATNIP TO BE POSITIVE?"

"I WAS DYING IN THE RAIN! WAS I SUPPOSED TO BE JOYFUL?" Katniss yells.

"COULD'VE THOUGHT BETTER!" he yells.

_There was a clatter in the bakery and I heard the woman screaming again and the sound of a blow, and I vaguely wondered what was going on. Feet sloshed towards me through the mud and I thought, It's her. She's coming to drive me away with a stick. But it wasn't her._

"AWW, THAT'S A SHAME. I REALLY WANTED TO SEE CATNIP GET DRIVEN AWAY BY A STICK." Yells Finnick.

_It was the boy. In his arms, he carried two large loaves of bread that must have fallen into the fire because the crusts were scorched black. His mother was yelling, "Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!"_

"YA, YOU STUPID CREATURE!" yells Finnick.

"I'M SORRY, YOU MUST BE MISTAKENING ME FOR YOURSELF!" yells Peeta.

"NO, I WAS PRETTY POSITIVE ABOUT YOU!" yells Finnick.

_He began to tear off chunks from the burned parts and toss them into the trough, and the front bakery bell rung and the mother disappeared to help a customer. The boy never even glanced my way, but I was watching him. Because of the bread, because of the red weal that stood out on his cheekbone. What had she hit him with?_

"THE STICK THAT SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO HIT YOU WITH!" yells Finnick.

_My parents never hit us. I couldn't even imagine it. The boy took one look back at the bakery as if checking that the coast was clear, then, his attention back on the pig, he threw a loaf of bread in my direction. The second quickly followed, and he sloshed back to the bakery, closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. I stared at the loaves in disbelief. They were fine, perfect really, except for the burned areas. Did he mean for me to have them?_

"NO, HE MEANT FOR THE CHICKENS NEXT TO YOU TO HAVE THEM. YES YOU!" yells Finnick.

_He must have. Because there they were at my feet. Before anyone could witness what had happened I shoved the loaves up under my shirt, wrapped the hunting jacket tightly about me, and walked swiftly away. The heat of the bread burned into my skin, but I clutched it tighter, clinging to life. By the time I reached home, the loaves had cooled somewhat, but the insides were still warm. When I dropped them on the table, Prim's hands reached to tear off a chunk, but I made her sit, forced my mother to join us at the table, and poured warm tea. I scraped off the black stuff and sliced the bread. We ate an entire loaf, slice by slice. It was good hearty bread, filled with raisins and nuts._

"I WISH I COULD SEE PEETANIP AND GALENIP'S EXPRESSION'S. SHE PUT PEETANIP'S BREAD WHERE, AGAIN?" asks Finnick.

"UP YOUR BUT!" yells Katniss.

"AND YOU STILL ATE IT?" yells Finnick.

"OH, SHUT UP" yells Katniss.

_I put my clothes to dry at the fire, crawled into bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep. It didn't occur to me until the next morning that the boy might have burned the bread on purpose. Might have dropped the loaves into the f lames, knowing it meant being punished, and then delivered them to me. But I dismissed this. It must have been an accident. Why would he have done it? He didn't even know me. Still, just throwing me the bread was an enormous kindness that would have surely resulted in a beating if discovered. I couldn't explain his actions. We ate slices of bread for breakfast and headed to school. It was as if spring had come overnight. Warm sweet air. Fluffy clouds. At school, I passed the boy in the hall; his cheek had swelled up and his eye had blackened. He was with his friends and didn't acknowledge me in any way. But as I collected Prim and started for home that afternoon, I found him staring at me from across the school yard. Our eyes met for only a second, then he turned his head away._

"SHE WILL NEVER KNOW, HE THOUGHT SADLY. YOU IDIOT, CATNIP! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT HE LIKES YOU?" Finnick yells.

"WHAT? THAT'S RIDICULOUS." Yells Katniss.

"RIDICULOUS, EH? WHAT'S HIS EXPRESSION, RIGHT NOW? I CAN'T SEE, UNFORTUNATELY, BECAUSE YOU THREW ME OUT A OF A WINDOW-"

"NEVERMIND" yells Katniss.

_I dropped my gaze, embarrassed, and that's when I saw it. The first dandelion of the year. A bell went off in my head. I thought of the hours spent in the woods with my father and I knew how we were going to survive. _

"UM, ISN'T A DANDELION A WEED?" asks Finnick.

"YOU REALLY HAD TO RUIN THE MOMENT, DIDN'T YOU?" yells Haymitch.

"YES, I DID. HAYMITCH, MY OLD PAL, HOW ARE YOU?" asks Finnick.

_To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed._

"SHE CAN'T SHAKE THE CONNECTION BETWEEN YOU TWO. OOOO." Yells Finnick.

_And more than once, I have turned in the school hallway and caught his eyes trained on me, only to quickly f lit away. I feel like I owe him something, and I hate owing people._

"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU CAN DO TO PAY HIM BACK? TALK TO HIM? ACKNOWLEDGE HIS PRESCENCE! MAYBE?" asks Finnick.

"WHAT?" yells Katniss.

"ARE YOU DEAF?" yells Finnick.

"I WISH." Yells Katniss.

_Maybe if I had thanked him at some point, I'd be feeling less conflicted now. I thought about it a couple of times, but the opportunity never seemed to present itself. And now it never will. Because we're going to be thrown into an arena to fight to the death. Exactly how am I supposed to work in a thank-you in there? Somehow it just won't seem sincere if I'm trying to slit his throat._

"HA! LIKE YOUR GOING TO SLIT HIS THROAT! YOU CAN'T DIE WITH A GUILTY CONSCIENCE. IT'S VERY UN-CATNIP LIKE OF YOU." Yells Finnick.

"SHUT UP. OF COURSE NOT!" yells Katniss.

_The mayor finishes the dreary Treaty of Treason and motions for Peeta and me to shake hands. His are as solid and warm as those loaves of bread. Peeta looks me right in the eye_

"MMMHMM, YOU OWN IT PEETANIP. LOOK HER IN THE EYE. PULL HER CLOSE. MMMHMMM." Yells Finnick.

"SHUT UP" Katniss and Peeta yell together.

_and gives my hand what I think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Maybe it's just a nervous spasm. We turn back to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays. Oh, well, I think. There will be twenty-four of us. Odds are someone else will kill him before I do._

"WHAT? WHY IS SHE THINKING OF PEETANIP LIKE THAT? WHO ARE YOU?" yells Finnick.

_Of course, the odds have not been very dependable of late._

"WHAT A NICE WAY TO END THE CHAPTER. WITH A REASSURING FACT. AND GUESS WHAT? I CALL DIBS ON THE NEXT CHAPTER!" Finnick yells.

"NO!" everyone yells.

"I CALLED DIBS!" Finnick yells.

"FINE," Gale yells, throwing the book out the window so it hits his head, "READ THE NEXT CHAPTER!"

"I WILL!"

Yay. What fun.


End file.
